Mutant3: Dance with the Devil Lucas
by Mapu
Summary: Third in the series Lucas falls prey to Magneto Warning: contains some violence and suicidal thoughts


Mutant  
Dancing with the Devil : Lucas by Mapu 

I don't own the seaQuest crew or the Xmenn characters- someone else does, I just play with them. The Mutant series is a crossover between seaquest and X-men. Each story in the series is told from more than one point of view . Thankyou, Caitlin, for all your help..

**Warning:** I'm never sure when to give a content warning so have decided to err on the side of caution... I don't think its too bad but there are suicidal thoughts, violence and some non-character death here.

"It really is a beautiful city," Lucas thought as he wandered across the bridge walkway. City spires stretched skyward, clawing at the lightly clouded sky in a maze of metal and glass. The setting sun tinged each cloud a delicate salmon-pink, while at the same time setting the buildings ablaze with reflections and color. The effect was visually stunning but Lucas had never felt more isolated or separated from the world in his life. 

He let his pace drift to a stop at the mid-point and turned away from the bustling bridge traffic to face the river and city. Resting his hands against the safety railing he leant outward to get an unobstructed view of the swirling water far below. The darkly ominous, ever changing surface of the water held more attraction for him than the city's glory. A thought took him by surprise; all he would have to do was climb over the railing and let the law of gravity do its job. Just let go and it would all be over in a few seconds. 

Without conscious effort he estimated the length of the drop and his mind instantly calculated the exact time and speed of impact. It would be quick and certain. No one would miss him. There was no one left who cared if he existed or not ... not even himself. He couldn't understand why he hadn't ever thought of it before? What was stopping him now? Lucas stared down at the slowly churning surface of the water, trying to understand why he still resisted the temptation. It would be so easy. As the last of the day's light faded Lucas found his answer. It was Bridger. The captain may hate who and what he'd become but at one time they had been family. Nathan Bridger was a man of honor and deep feeling, the suicide death of someone, mutant or not, who had once been important to him would cut him deeply. Lucas could not let that happen. 

From behind him a loud horn sounded, snapping Lucas from the river's consuming spell. The sun had set and the city's lights gleamed colorfully in the early evening. Lucas watched as offices emptied and the people round him rushed toward their homes. Through the railing under his hands he could feel the increased vibrations of the rush hour traffic. Through that contact his heightened mutant senses connected him closely to the bridge and his immediate physical surroundings, but something was wrong; less than 2 meters from him, Lucas could sense a structural support beam riddled with metal fatigue fractures. He clamped down on his power before it could build, and pushed away from the railing with a sigh. Someday, not too far away that support would collapse, and take a section of the bridge with it. With luck the maintenance workers would find the fault in time. He could do nothing; attempting to repair the damage in the middle of rush hour traffic would be a death sentence as certain as a fall to the river. To survive he had to stay hidden; it was the best he could do. It was all he could do. 

*** 

Lucas ran for his life. His heart pounded in time with the rapid slap of his feet against the pavement. Behind him he could hear hooting and howls from the vigilante mob that pursued him. They were getting closer. Despite his growing exhaustion he ran harder. Flinging out a hand he let it smack hard against the rough brickwork of a corner using it to assist his change of direction. Momentarily out of sight of his attackers, Lucas sped down a shadowy lane way. 

This time he knew he was in real trouble. These weren't the police or ordinary opportunistic individuals chasing him, these were prepared vigilantes out for his blood. They had begun to pursue him the instant they spotted him. It wasn't much of a stretch for Lucas to believe that they had been specifically looking for him. He had done nothing to draw attention to himself since he'd got to the city but somehow these people had been alerted to his presence. 

There hadn't been an opportunity to see a newscast but he was sure his face was plastered across the services. Not for the first time Lucas wished the dark hair dye he had tried had held. He'd liked the way he looked with dark hair, and it altered his appearance so much no one would have recognized him, but the first time he'd used his power it had all vanished. It had been as though the energy had pressed a reset button and Lucas had returned to his natural blonde appearance. 

Lucas twisted his head as he ran, looking back over his shoulder when he heard the sound of running feet. People flashed past the alley entrance, missing the turn. Lucas slowed, needing to catch his breath. With surprise, he realized he was completely lost, he'd turned so many times at random in an effort to get away he'd not only lost his pursuers but himself as well. Distracted, his foot came down badly on a loose piece of trash, made slimy by the evening rain. It slipped out from underneath him and he fell, his body crashing painfully into a broken crate. 

"There! He's down there! Get him!" a booming voice, cried excitedly and Lucas rolled over in the alley muck to look back the way he'd come. A man was standing at the entrance, pointing excitedly at him. 

Lucas glanced up to belatedly notice a dimly glowing wall light almost directly above him. "That would be right... I would have to make a commotion under the only light around," he muttered disgustedly, picking himself up. 

Several more people had joined the first one, and Lucas took off into the darkness again, sounds of laughter following him from the other end. He hadn't run more than twenty meters before he skidded to a stop. A solid brick wall gleamed darkly at him just feet from his face. Too late he realized his mistake. He'd run into a blind alley. Frantically he looked for some means of escape but there were none, he was trapped. 

The voices came closer and Lucas spun around to meet his enemy face-on. More than a dozen men casually wandered toward him laughing, and sharing coarse jokes with each other ... egging each other on. Lucas stood frozen in place. 

"What's the matter mutie-boy? ... Make a wrong turn? You shouldn't have come here. This is our city; we don't like you mutants here. You should have stayed wherever it was you came from ... freak," a tall well-built man told him, casually spinning a metal pipe in his hands. Lucas felt his eyes drawn to the flashing steel as it spun. With an effort Lucas forced his gaze from the weapon to the eyes of the man behind it. The intent there was plain; this man wanted to hurt him... to kill him. There would be no negotiation. 

Lucas released his tenacious hold on his control and felt his power swell. The energy coursed through his body, giving him strength and draining him at the same time. 

"Back off, all of you. I don't want to hurt you but I will if I have to," Lucas warned them. 

Several in the group looked a little concerned and backed off a few steps, but the group leader just laughed and shook his head. 

"You can try, mutie, but I've heard all about you... you gotta be in direct contact to hurt us. Too bad for you, we don't." 

Without warning the leader swung his metal pipe violently toward Lucas' head. Lucas automatically raised his arm to shield himself from the blow. On contact with his skin more than half of the pipe dissolved into a fine white powder. The man started at the remaining short length of pipe in his hands with disgusted anger. Lucas tried to duck as the man threw the remainder of the pipe at his body but he wasn't fast enough to avoid it entirely. The edge of it glanced across his shoulder before his power had recovered from the discharge. The hit left a thin red trail of torn skin and ripped shirt behind. 

Looking into the now savage smile on the faces around him, Lucas felt his fears intensify, and as it did, more power flowed into him until he could barely contain the level. He could feel the energy course through him in surges, and he tried to concentrate on keeping it under control. His power pulverized most objects before they did him harm but an occasional object made it through the gaps in his defense to strike him. He was weakening quickly and he knew he couldn't last much longer against the assault. 

An unseen object hit him from behind, bringing him to his knees, and he felt the fragile control on his power fail. He slapped his hands forward to the ground in a desperate attempt to protect the people around him from the dangerous energies. A painful blow landed against the side of his head and darkness filled his vision. 

*** 

Lucas rolled on to his back with a soft moan, his head hurt so bad he could barely see. Looking around himself he was surprised to find the attack over. A few still shapes lay scattered around the narrow alley and Lucas kept his gaze away from them, besides, the figure standing near by occupied all of his attention. 

The man was tall, sharp-faced with short greying hair and cold eyes. Despite the cold look Lucas was certain this man wasn't one of the vigilantes that had attacked him. 

"Be still. Let me examine you," the stranger ordered as Lucas tried to sit. 

The man efficiently checked his injuries; "You'll be fine. Now, it is time to go. It wouldn't do for the underdeveloped humans to capture you now. Not after all the effort I've been through to find you." 

"Who are you? What do you want with me?" Lucas asked. 

"I am Magneto, and I want a great many things from you, my young friend, but there is not time to discuss them at present. We must leave. Can you stand?" 

Lucas tried to sit up but the pain in his head and the exhaustion left from using his power made it impossible, instead he only managed to make himself feel sick. 

"I don't think so," he muttered. 

"No matter." 

The man pointed to the metal fire escape bolted to the wall of a nearby building, which tore itself free from its mounts and flew to Lucas's side. Lucas stared at the man, understanding the strangeness at last. He was a mutant. A very powerful one and Lucas felt an odd kind of kinship with him. The ladder reshaped itself forming a stretcher and Lucas allowed himself to be raised on it. 

From higher up Lucas recognized the still shapes to be people. The same people who had attacked him. Several of them were unnaturally still and at least one was obviously dead, the man's shocked eyes stare back at Lucas vacantly. 

"W-what happened to them?" he asked in a frightened voice. 

"You mean you don't remember?" 

"No." 

"You happened to them, my boy. You, and your power, that is. Don't let it bother you, those men were attacking you and you defended yourself. You lost control of your power. It was an accident. It's as simple as that." 

"I did this?" A note of panic crept into his voice. 

"Yes. I drove the rest of them away. My power, it would seem, is much more controlled than yours appears. I am able to use it as a defense with out causing unintentional harm" 

Lucas was quiet as the reality of what had happened hit him. He could remember losing control of the power, and then he'd been hit. The power or debris from whatever it had blasted must have hit the closest, injuring and killing them. He was a murderer. It made him sick but he couldn't tear his eyes from his victims. The strangers voice, now gentle and understanding interrupted his self-recriminations. 

"I can teach you. Teach you to control your power so that you will not cause unintended harm again. ... Would you like that?" he asked sympathetically 

"Yes. Yes, please help me." 

"I will, and you will help me. Together we will each reach our full potential. Rest now." 

Hurt and exhausted, Lucas did as he was told and within seconds he fell to sleep. 

*** 

Lucas woke to find himself resting comfortably on a narrow bunk, his mind a complete blank. He sat up quickly and as he did the memory of the previous events flooded in. A flash of a shocked expression stamped on the dead face of the man lying in the alley came clearly to his mind. Lucas breathed heavily. He closed and rubbed his eyes against the memory but it didn't help change reality. He'd killed people. He hadn't meant to do it but he had, and even worse, he didn't remember it. It seemed appalling somehow to have done something so terrible and not even have the decency to remember it. 

Lucas glanced around at the depressingly solid grey metal walls of the room and his first thought was that he was in a prison cell. It was what he deserved, but as he noticed the finely crafted detail in the patterns of the walls he realized that it definitely wasn't a prison. The room was made almost completely of metal but each of the items had been so carefully crafted and in such detail that there was no way it could be mistaken as a cell. 

"Where the hell am I?" 

His memory again supplied the answer; it brought back the image of a tall, thin, grey-haired mutant with a deep, well-cultured voice assuring him, "I'll take care of everything." 

Magneto. That was the mutant's name, the name of the man who had save all those people from Lucas's run-away power. Magneto had promised to take him somewhere safe. He had promised to teach him to control his power so that such a terrible thing would never happen again. Lucas stood shakily and went to wash his face in the small, but elegantly designed wash basin. 

"I owe Magneto my life," he thought as he gently dabbed at the painful bruise on his temple. As he looked at his own reflection in the mirror, a mirror made not of glass but highly polished metal, the dead man's face came back to haunt him. Lucas realized that he owed Magneto much more than his own life, he owed him the lives of everyone who had escaped his loss of control. One thing was clear, the crew of the seaQuest had been right, he was far too dangerous to be around normal people. It was time he lived with his own kind. 

***  
AUGUST 2001 


End file.
